


Alias Dead Sexy

by EchoThruTheWoods



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:16:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoThruTheWoods/pseuds/EchoThruTheWoods
Summary: For Final Fantasy VII Rarepair Week, Free Day.Guess Vincent's code name ;)





	Alias Dead Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of nonsense was inspired by #233 on the list of "Things the Turks Are Not Allowed to Do," per @wanderingkatana's blog on Tumblr.

Having the Turks on special assignment to the WRO was like taking a step back in time. Veld gazed around the conference room, noting each familiar face around the table. If there were a few more lines and a little more gray hair than there once had been, well, he wasn’t the proverbial spring chocobo anymore, either.

The only one in the room who didn’t look well-seasoned was, of course, Valentine, who had just taken his seat. Late, as usual. What was it about meetings that made Vincent drag his feet? He was never late for an actual assignment, only for the briefings that preceded them. Veld was not amused.

He cleared his throat, instantly silencing the pre-meeting banter. All eyes fastened on his face.

“Right. You all know why you’re here.”

“Big drug cartel moving in,” Balto said.

Veld nodded. “Based somewhere near the Northern Crater, near as we can tell. We’ll be taking out the manufacturing facilities.”

“Ohhh, explosions!” said Elena. That girl had a serious fetish for incendiaries.

“Before we do that,” Veld went on, “we need to nail the nasty little captains of industry who are behind it, so they don’t get a chance to set up shop somewhere else.”

He slid a stack of black folders across the table. “These don’t leave this room. Familiarize yourselves with the details. You’ve got twenty minutes.”

“Gonna be a quiz?” Reno asked, lips quirked.

Veld returned the smirk. “What do you think?”

Reno saluted, opening his folder. “Infiltrate, neutralize, the usual.” He turned a page. “Oh hey, code names.” His elbow nudged Rude, who sat next to him. “Yours is Cueball.”

Rude just looked at him, unperturbed. He’d have been more concerned if Reno hadn’t made a wisecrack. “So what’s yours? Jackass?”

“Stud,” said Reno, flipping pages. “And Elena’s is Baby Ho.” He winked at her, and then winced. “Don’t kick me, dammit!”

“Then don’t be a jerk.”

“ ’kay, then, yours is Princess Badass. What’s Vincent’s?”

Rod snickered. “Mrs. Dragoon.”

Veld bit his lip, hard. He was supposed to be the sober Old Man here.

Vincent had gone still as death, a condition he was intimately familiar with. His eyes flicked to Veld’s face. Likely he’d caught the hitch in in Veld’s breathing that betrayed his suppressed laughter.

“Nah, it’s Vampire Boy,” Reno said.

“Tall, Dark and Moody.”

“Daddy‘s Darling.”

“Whoa, that’s creepy.”

“Hey, that could work!”

Vincent’s chair slid back. He was gone before it stopped moving.

\---

Veld found him thirty minutes later, on a balcony on the highest level of HQ, seated on a bench tucked into the space where two walls met. He blended into the shadows, clothed as always in solid black, but Veld caught the movement of his hair in the wind. What was it with Valentine and heights? Veld stood, hands on hips, squinting in the dim light.

“The hell is your problem? You can’t take a little ball-busting?”

Vincent scowled. “It’s not bad enough that I’m technically dead, with a head full of corporeal delusions. My colleagues have to mock me as well.”

“No one’s mocking you. Ragging on you, yes, the same as they’ve always done with each other. Means you’re part of the group, and it’s no different than it ever was. So suck it up, buttercup.”

In a blur of movement, Vincent pinned Veld against the wall.

“Remember what you said when we got back together?” He leaned closer. “Only as long as it doesn’t interfere with the job?” Closer still, lips against Veld’s ear. “It’s interfering.”

“Only if you let it,” Veld snapped.

“You like it when people think I’m your bitch, don’t you?”

“Maybe you should stop acting like one.”

“Oh how is it my fault? All I’m asking for is a little respect!”

Veld shifted, slipping out of Vincent’s hold with practiced ease. Vincent blinked, apparently startled. Gods knew why; Veld had taught him that hold.

“It might help if you had a sense of humor.”

Vincent gave him the patented Valentine Death-Stare. “Let’s see how hard you laugh when it’s your turn.” He stepped into the shadows and vanished.

\---

Infiltration was a Turk specialty. Doing it in black tie just made it more fun. They met in the Wardrobe Dept., where a bored clerk handed out garment bags to each of them.

Reno opened his, peering inside. “Tailored pants, matching shawl collar jacket, waistcoat. Hell of a party we’re going to.”

“And all of those pieces better come back intact,” Veld said.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Elena examined the couture gown in her bag. “Oh, good, it’s a split skirt. I hate trying to run in a dress.”

“Me, too,” said Reno, grinning. Elena stuck out her tongue at him.

The clerk piled a bunch of boxes on the counter. “Ties, shoes, hats, _et cetera.”_

“Damn, these drug lords throw some pretty fancy bashes.” Reno popped the lid off of a tall, round box and lifted out a black silk hat with a high crown. “So who gets the top hat?”

“I’ll take that.” Vincent snatched the hat and set it on his own head, smirking.

“But you never wear hats,” said Elena.

“Oh, I wear this one…figuratively.” Vincent turned to Veld. “Don’t I, dearest?”

Bagged suit draped over his shoulder, he swaggered toward the door. As he passed Veld, his free hand smacked him on the ass. “See you tonight, sweet cheeks.”

His footsteps faded down the hall before the stunned silence in Wardrobe broke into cheers, whistles, and catcalls.

“Maybe I can’t kill you, Valentine,” Veld muttered, “but by gods, I will get you for this.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
